


Standing in the Middle

by TrashFoot



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Single Father, Slow Burn, Therapy, ice hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-01-20 21:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18533431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashFoot/pseuds/TrashFoot
Summary: Hockey player Rob Bourdon, defenseman for the New York Rangers, was living his life in his comfort zone. Yep, nothing to worry about. That is, until he witnesses single father and struggling artist Mike Shinoda just trying to make his son stop crying.





	1. Starry Eyed

Grabbing his duffel bag and adjusting his sweatshirt, Rob Bourdon was ready to leave. He pushed his way through the locker room door, having already said his goodbyes to his teammates. As he made his way to the lobby of Madison Square Garden, he noticed how much quieter it was now than it was when he entered the locker room just one hour ago. Of course, there was the occasional straddler or a passing janitor or security guard, but other than that, nothing.

“Otis, Otis  _ please _ ,” Rob heard a man say. He looked in the direction he heard the voice, and saw a grown man kneeling in front of a child who was crying on a bench. “Please stop crying. I’m sorry we missed him this time, but there’ll be other chances.” Rob stood there, mouth agape at the sight of the older man.

“But  _ dad _ ,” the boy whined, “what if there are no other chances to meet Rob Bourdon?”  _ Huh? _ Rob thought.  _ Me? _ After all his time with the New York Rangers, Rob was still surprised people were fans of him; that  _ he _ was their favorite player, and that some of those fans were children, and some of those children, quite frankly, had attractive fathers — at least from a distance. Before he was aware of what was going on, Rob’s legs were moving him towards the two.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” Rob’s mouth spoke for him before his brain could think of anything. The black haired man turned his head to look at who was talking to them, as the boy— _his son?_ — quickly wiped tears away from his eyes as he was obviously very well aware who this person approaching them was.

“R-R— uh, Mr. Uh, Mr. Bourdon sir— mister, uh, can- can you s-sign this, please?” The boy stuttered and hiccuped through his question as he pushed a glossy picture of Rob his way. “I-I even have a pen.” He added on quickly, shoving a Sharpie his way with the other hand.

“Yeah, of course!” Rob agreed, placing his duffel bag on the floor and kneeling if front of the boy as the older man stood and moved out of the way. “Who am I making this out to?”

“O-Otis!” He hiccuped again and smiled wide as Rob briefly noticed some of his tears were already beginning to dry on his reddened cheeks. Rob painted over the picture with the Sharpie as he wrote:  _ To Otis, Hope to see you on the ice one day! Rob Bourdon. _ Handing the picture back to Otis, he saw a look of disbelief grow on his face and a gasp escape his lips. Otis sat and stared at it for a moment.

“Otis, what do we say?” The man asked. Rob took this as an excuse to take a better look at him in order to see if he really was as cute as he initially thought.  _ Yes, definitely. _

“Thank you, Mr. Bourdon!” He said before getting up and running around the lobby, picture firmly in hand. He began to yell, “Yes! I got his autograph!” and do a dance.

“That was really nice of you. Thank you for that.” The man said to Rob as he chuckled at his son’s actions.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m guessing your his dad?”

“Yeah. Mike.” He confirmed as he stuck out his hand.

“Rob.” He took his hand and shook it.

“Yeah, I know.” Mike said, laughing.

“Oh, yeah.” Rob laughed too and placed his hand on the back of his neck as he blushed.

“Well, I don’t want to take up too much more of your time, you probably wanna go home.”

“No, it’s—”

“Otis, buddy! We gotta get going!”

“Alright! Thanks again, Mr. Bourdon!” Otis said, grabbing his dad’s hand as they began for the door.

“Yes, thank you!” Mike said, looking back at Rob as he gave a little wave and a big smile.

“You’re welcome!” Rob said to them, smiling back at the handsome stranger. “Mike.” Rob said quietly to himself as he watched them walk out through the doors, a smile still stuck to his face.

 

* * *

Rob shoved his way through the lobby doors of Madison Square Garden. He had spent the entire subway ride trying to hype himself for practice before their game against the Devils. He was afraid it would be a little harder to get pumped up today since him and the rest of the team got back that morning from Philadelphia and their game against the Flyers. 

As he walked through the lobby, he passed by the bench where he had met the man— Mike— and his son just about a week before. Mike’s face flashed in his memory. His black wiry hair spiked up into a fauxhawk, the near-scruffy beard growing in around his jawline, the way his eyes lit up and the way he smiled at the sight of his excited son. It was all so beautiful. As he made his way through the building and approached the Rangers locker room, he shook away his thoughts before entering. This action didn’t make the thoughts go entirely away, though. They only scattered themselves within his brain, hiding away in crevices so they can reappear later. 

“Hey, Phi. Hey Joe.” He greeted his friends and teammates as he passed them and got quiet greetings in return. Then there was the sight of two more of his teammates: Cody Kimball and Niklas Plank. Cody was shirtless, and the other was halfway done placing his practice uniform on as they playfully started shoving each other as Rob came back down to reality. As a hand accidentally glanced over Cody’s shirtless pec, he yelled out with a laugh: “Dude! What are you touching me like that for? What are you, gay?” Rob inwardly flinched at his teammate’s question.

 

* * *

 

 

As the game ended, Rob wanted to come down from the adrenaline the game gave him and maybe even forget how poorly he played that night, but before he could, he was chosen to do a post game interview with some of the press that MSG allowed in. In the midst of it, one of them asked:

“I’m sure taking a loss like you guys did tonight isn’t the outcome you expected, do you think your gameplay was at all affected?” One of the men in suits asked.

“If anything, my gameplay probably affected the outcome. I mean, I know I wasn’t as focused as I should’ve been or wanted to be, I just—” Rob could tell he was about to make an excuse for his playing tonight, and he was sure that’s the last thing the press wanted to hear. This was a post-game interview in the NHL, not a ride home with his parents from one of his high school hockey games. “You know, next time I just gotta do better, make sure I get focused correctly beforehand.”

“Alright, thanks.” And before he knew it, the interview was over. Rob knew the true reason behind his inability to focus: his crush— on a stranger, no less. One he’d never see again.

 


	2. Exhibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe drags Rob off to an art show, and against Rob’s better judgement, Rob ends up making a purchase.

“I’m so glad you decided to come! This is gonna be great!” Joe exclaimed.

“Well, judging by the fact that you decided for me by telling me you were already on your way here to take me to your little art show, I don’t think I had much of a choice.”

“Hey! The Armory’s annual art show is a big deal!”

“If it’s such a big deal, how come I’ve never heard of it?” Rob asked.

“Because it’s a big deal to people who have taste, Mr. I-Haven’t-Even-Painted-Any-Of-My-Walls-Since-I-Moved-Into-My-Apartment- _ 5-Years-Ago _ .”

“I haven’t painted any of them ‘cause the white helps with the natural light.”

“This is Manhattan though, how much natural light do we get?”

“ _ I _ get enough up here, I don’t know how much  _ you _ get in your fancy little Soho garden apartment.”

“Hey, if Heidi likes it, I like it. Besides, it’s nice being so close to all the greenery. I’m sure you’d know since there’s  _ so much _ going down Lexington here.” Joe said, laying the sarcasm on thick. “Now will you hurry up so we can get going?”

“I just gotta find my wallet, hold on.” Out of the corner of Rob’s eye, he saw Joe’s hand reach for something on the nearby coffee table.

“You mean this?” Rob gave him a look before responding, grabbing for his wallet and tucking it away.

“Yeah. Alright, let’s go. You wanna walk or take the subway?”

“Eh, walk. I don’t feel like adding more money to my MetroCard right now.”

When they arrived, they both agreed they’d take the subway home after the walk there 15 minutes longer than they were expecting. After scoping out the building, one that Rob felt was more like a warehouse more than anything, they made their way over to a buffet table. Joe was amazed by it since nearly all of the other art shows he’s been to never offered a buffet table. As Rob found some tiny spinach quiches to snack on, he looked over to where he’d left Joe, and saw him quickly pick off a glass of red wine from a waiter’s plate and head off hurriedly into the crowd.  _ I guess something caught his eye. _ The fact that Joe was off somewhere in the large building didn’t worry him too much, since he had his number and could call or text him at any time. 

The thing that did worry him was that he was now left all alone with his awkward self amongst dozens, if not hundreds, of bougie strangers. Rob adjusted his glasses and pulled at the hem of his navy blue blazer, as if adjusting either of these things would do something impressive to the stripped shirt underneath, or make him any less awkward. Rob was so confused by how he could still be as awkward as he was, even when he was so confident on the ice. The second he stepped off though, he was back to his old self. He sighed and wished he was back at home, scrolling through Netflix with a bowl of popcorn.

Wandering the gallery, he saw various sculptures that he was sure he didn’t quite get the point of, and even more genuinely beautiful paintings that he just didn’t quite like. As he turned a corner and started down another aisle, a large painting caught his eye. How couldn’t it? The painting was of a skeleton’s mugshot against a red background. Rob gave a small smile towards the skeleton. The next one was a skeleton with a shirt made of money that looked more fitting as bad wallpaper somewhere. Next, there was a white skull sporting a hat on a red background with a matching white flower, falling leaves, an eel, and a fish swimming by. The cover of another gossip magazine showcasing all the latest celebrity trends was next, and on it was the hot new “it” couple: a skeleton wearing a leather jacket and a woman wearing heart-shaped sunglasses. Finally, the last one had a leather jacket clad skeleton on a couch with a lit cigarette in between fingers as smoke swirled out of it. The last one wowed him enough to want to buy it. He turns around, in search for an artist—  _ the _ artist. Through the crowd, he does a double-take. His brain confirms it to the rest of his body as he freezes. He swears he saw Mike— the cute father of that excited kid from... last week, was it?

As he spotted him, he thanked God he was talking to somebody else for the moment, a suited man with a big, poofy Afro and an equally fitting beard to go along with it. As soon as he saw him he lost any and all confidence. All he could do was stare at him like he was one of the paintings. The stranger abruptly walked away from the booth and Rob spun back around and faced the painting. He scolded himself. _C’mon! You don’t even know this guy, dammit! Just go over to him and see if you can buy the painting! Where’s that ‘hockey player confidence’ of yours, huh? You leave it on the ice?_ Rob looked quickly over his shoulder, in a failed attempt to see if he saw him. _God, I can’t! He looks so much better here now that he’s all dressed up and everything._ Rob let out a big sigh. _Ugh,_ _I can’t feel that way about him, I don’t need the team and the public finding out..._ he reminded himself as he lifted his head to look at the smoking skeleton painting in front of him.

“Like what you see?” The suddenness of voice next to him made Rob jump a foot in the air. As Rob fixed his glasses and looked wide-eyed at the voice’s owner, the man laughed. “Sorry about that,” he said with a big smile stuck to his face, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Hi, I’m Mike. Mike Shinoda.” Rob shook his hand.

 

“I’m, uh—”

 

“Rob Bourdon.” Mike filled in. Rob smiled as he blushed a little and let go of Mike’s hand. “Sorry, it’s just— m-my son, loves you. He’s got your poster hanging in his room and everything.” He chuckled again. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but he was lucky enough to get your autograph a little while back.”

 

“Yeah, I remember.” Rob lifted his head, meeting Mike’s eyes and attempting to mirror his bright smile in his own way. “You can call me Rob though, I-I mean, if you want.” There was a moment— a split second where he had felt a shiver run up his back. Mike visibly shivered and cleared his throat, turning his head to the painting.

 

“Uh, so, Mr. Bou—” Mike snorted out a laugh through his nose as he shook his head at his mistake, “Rob— what brought you here?” 

 

“Oh, one of my friends from the team dragged me here; Joe, our back-up goalie, he absolutely  _ loves _ art.” Mike’s eyebrows lifted as a smile graced his lips.

 

“Oh really?” 

 

“Yeah. I guess it’s kinda rubbing off ‘cause I’m kind of in love with this piece here.”

 

“You mean  _ Smokin’ _ ? You know, it’s for sale.”

 

“Well, I’d love to buy it. I, uh…”

 

“You what? Is this your first buy?” Rob chuckled nervously at Mike’s question.

 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to do this.”

 

“Nah man, it’s fine. Hold on, lemme call Brad real quick. He’s my dealer.” From what Rob could hear of the conversation, Mike was  _ just _ talking to him— how could he already be caught up in the middle of selling a painting? So what if it’s a New York Ranger who he  _ knows _ is a prominent collector? There was a New York Ranger over here, too! He could see nervousness wash over Mike as half-assuredly tells his dealer he could handle it. “Alright,” Mike said with a clap of his hands after slipping his phone in his pocket and very quickly changing his disposition. “So the price is $750, but I  _ am _ willing to negotiate.” Rob scrunched his face at the painting for a moment, and even though something in his brain was warning him what he was about to say was incredibly dumb, he couldn’t stop himself.

 

“You know what? I’ll take it. For $900, because it’s  _ really _ good.” Mike’s eyes immediately widened in surprise. “ _ And _ on one condition: You give me the name of someone who can help me hang it up at my place.” The shock didn’t quite wipe off of Mike’s face, so he shook it off before agreeing and placing his hand in Rob’s.

 

“Alright, agreed. You uh—  _ I _ can deliver the painting to you, and  _ you _ just gotta sign some papers—” Mike looked around him, as if a table with papers had magically appeared beside them. “Damn, Brad took the papers.” Mike quietly said to himself. “Um, let me text him, tell him we made a deal, and in the meantime while we’re waiting, we can exchange info so I know where I’m taking this.” He ended the conversation with a laugh, like he was still in disbelief with what just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see the paintings used in this chapter here: http://www.otakia.com/272/produit/art-book/glorious-excess-born/


	3. The Delivery Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The delivery man arrives! And Mike makes an excuse as to why he’s crying. (In reality, the painting reminds him of something (or someone) else.)

Rob jumped at the knock at the door. He knew exactly who it was, and the fact that he still jumped at the sudden noise made him blush lightly. He had received a call from Mike saying he was on his way and the trip would take about 30 minutes. He paused his show on Netflix and jogged over to the door.

 

“Hi!” Mike greeted cheerfully.

 

“Hi.” Rob replied with a smile.

 

“Did you carry that thing all the way here?” Rob asked, pointing to the large painting wrapped in plastic and noticing a sheen of sweat glistening on Mike’s forehead.

 

“Well I walked it here from the subway. I got a break in the elevator, but this thing’s heavier than it looks. Where should I put this?”

 

“Oh, here I’ll help, we can put it against the couch for now.”

 

“Alright.” As they gently placed the painting on the floor, Rob excused himself to get Mike his money, closing the front door as he went off. As he did, Mike stood back and examined the painting.

 

“Okay, here it all is.” Rob said, handing an envelope to Mike.  _ Are his eyes watering? _ “You okay?” Rob asked curiously, internally kicking himself afterwards for prying.

 

“Uh, yeah.” He responded, blinking a few times as he looked away from Rob and forked his fingers through his hair. “I, uh…” Mike’s voice cracked noticeably before he exhaled, “My son— I was just thinking, he uh, he’s really growing up. He was at his first ice skating party the other day. He was so nervous ‘cause he’s never been ice skating before.”

 

“Really? You know, maybe one of these days I could teach him some of the basics of skating and maybe even some hockey.”

 

“Wow, you’d do that for him?”

 

“Yeah, sure! Maybe this Friday? I’ll be free all afternoon.”

 

“Oh that’d be great! Maybe after his school lets out I can drop him at a rink with you and I can get some stuff done over at the gallery.”

 

“Okay! Sounds like a plan!”

 

* * *

 

As Rob was trying to show Otis how hockey players move the puck down the ice— moving the puck right as he steps on his left leg and vice versa— they both became distracted as somebody called to them in the empty rink.

“Hey Oatie-doadie! How’s your practice going?”

“Dad,” Otis complained through gritted teeth, “stop it. Don’t embarrass me in front of him.” Mike chuckled. 

“You know, he’s actually doing pretty well. He skates like a natural.” Rob interjected.

“Yeah, and that’s only after one roller skating party  _ and _ an ice skating party!” Otis gloated. Mike smiled at his pride. “Dad, why don’t you come on the ice with us? I wanna show you what I learned!” Otis began to skate around, clumsily trying to keep pushing the puck around with his stick.

“I can see you from here just fine, buddy.” Mike said, taking a seat on the nearby bleachers. Rob decided to pile on with Otis.

“Aw, come on Mike, why don’t you join us? Please?”

“Yeah dad,  _ please _ ?” Otis skated over to the boards to try and give his dad his best puppy dog eyes through his mask.

“I can’t. The skate rental is gonna cost money, and the McCormacks will be coming by soon to—” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the rental covered.” Rob cut him off, offering a big smile.

“The rental is covered, of course it is.” Mike groaned as he stood.

“Come on, dad!” 

“Alright, I’ll be right back up, okay, O?” About 15 minutes passed before Mike reappeared at the open entrance into the rink. He carefully stepped onto the ice and held onto the edge of the boards for dear life. After side-stepping very carefully for a few inches, he turned around and gave the two a thumbs up as he leaned against the boards. Before he knew it, he had slipped and fell hard on his butt. Otis giggled.

“Are you okay?” Rob asked, skating over to him, unable to hold back a few chuckles.

“Ugh, yeah.” Mike said with a blush appearing to his cheeks as he went to rub the pain out of his butt— as if that would help. Rob offered a hand and Mike gladly accepted. As he rose, he began to slip again, grabbing hard onto Rob’s shoulders for stability.

“You don’t know how to skate, do you?” Rob quietly asked of Mike as soon as he was stabilized. This question made Mike’s blush deepen as he shook his head.

“No.”

“Don’t worry, I can teach you.” Rob offered with a smile, their eyes locking as he tried not to think about how cute Mike was, especially when he was blushing.

“Goal!” Otis shouted, bringing the two out of their moment. Mike looked over to his son.

“Really? Great job, buddy!”

“It was my first goal, too!”

“Hey, Mike!” They all looked over to the entrance of the rink, where a woman and two young boys were all standing. The boy’s jaws were practically on the floor.

“Hey, Deborah! You here to pick up Otis?”

“Yep!”

“Alright Otis, time for your party.” Otis skated over to his dad, who was now back to holding onto the boards. “You got all your stuff?” Otis nodded yes, his helmet falling over his eyes for a moment. “Your toothbrush, your PJ’s?”

“It’s all in my overnight bag.”

“What about your ‘#1 Dad’ mug that you’re gonna wrap up and give to me as a present tomorrow when you get home ‘cause you love me so much?” Otis made a face.

“No!” His son’s reaction made Mike laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’ll wait ‘til Christmas for it. Enjoy your party. I love you.”

“Thanks, dad. Love you too.” Otis gave his dad a hug before gliding towards the opening in the boards, asking the McCormacks and the other party-goer to hold on until he could get dressed, and grabbed his overnight bag and backpack he had placed next to the bleachers. 

“See you tomorrow, Deborah. Call me if anything.” 

“Got it! I’m sure he’ll be fine, we’ve got a lot planned for tonight.” She reassured him. Rob and Mike could overhear the two other boys asked asking Otis if that really was who they thought he was. As they left, Mike and Rob looked at each other for an awkward moment. Desperate to break the silence, Rob’s mouth opened before he knew what he was going to say. Luckily, Mike interrupted before he could say anything, and he shut his mouth.

 

“You know, I don’t have any plans tonight, are you free to get a bite to eat?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I know a great diner that we could go to.”

 

* * *

 

Stepping in after Mike, the tiny diner always reminded Rob of a train car. It was long and  _ just _ barely wide enough for everything it contained; the counter, counter seating, and roughly a half a dozen booths. It really was a hole in the wall. A waiter showed them to a table, placing two menus before them. He came back a moment later, taking their drink orders. After some small talk, two waters were placed in front of them. Small talk soon made way to deeper talk.

 

“Otis seems like a great kid, I’m sure you and your wife must be proud of him.”

 

“Oh, I’m not married anymore. Otis is uh, the result of me and my college girlfriend not being smart.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We got married when we found out, but we broke up when he was still a toddler.”

 

“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

“Ah, it’s fine.” Mike waved it off. “We’re still pretty amicable. We switch off every week and we share him on Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

 

“Wow, you two must be good at working it out.”

 

“It’s not always easy, but we also try pretty hard.” Suddenly, their food was placed in front of them; a cheese omelette was placed in front of Mike as he was warned it was still hot, and a grilled chicken breast with a side of broccoli, asparagus, and sliced baby carrots was gently placed in front of Rob.They ate mostly in silence, until most if not all of the food was off of their plates. As he finished, Rob noticed Mike was staring off into space with a sad look on his face.

 

“You okay?” Rob asked with his last bite of food in his mouth.

“I was just remembering, about Chester... Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear about it. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I want to.” After a moment, Mike continued. 

“I… was thinking about that picture you bought. I was even thinking about him earlier, too. I had taken this picture of him, of Chester, and...” he started as he pulled out his phone, searching for the picture. As he found it and showed Rob, he continued. Rob kept his head tilted to one side while listening to the remainder of the story. “He was sitting there, smoking his cigarette and I... I couldn’t help but sketch him. Then, eventually it turned into that painting. And there’s…” Mike cleared his throat, “there’s another one that I had painted. I had based off of a mugshot he’d gotten when he was younger that he’d shown me. He’d always wanted to be a rock star. Now I’ve got a series of paintings going, I guess, based off a celebrity— or like, the idea of one. Oh, God, I’m rambling aren’t I?” He caught himself and laughed.

“No, no! It’s fine.” Rob smiled. “This guy seemed really important to you.”

“Yeah, he was.” Mike looked off, smiling. “Chester was my first, like  _ actual _ long-term boyfriend.” Rob looked at him, wide-eyed.  _ He just solidified that he’s bi. Holy shit.  _ Rob felt scared. _ If he can admit something like that out loud, why can’t I admit it to myself? _ “Rob… you alright?”

“No. Yeah. I’m fine, I’m… just,” he moved his hands around as if he was trying to capture the words he wanted in mid-air. He sighed and waved it off. “Don’t worry about it.” Mike gave him a look, but continued.

“Well, we had moved in together and everything. He was basically a… another parent or like, father figure to Otis.”

“I don’t wanna like, pry or anything, but you keep talking in the past tense, and—”

“Yeah, he uh, he… died. Last year. His depression finally got the best of him and he hung himself.” Rob clasped his hands over his mouth.

“Oh my God, that’s— God, I’m so sorry, Mike.”

“Thank you. The toughest part right now is just trying to keep up with all the bills and even the cost of living in the city, plus Otis—” Suddenly a busboy came around and cleaned their plates, putting a quick pause on their conversation. Quickly afterwards, their waiter asked if they wanted desserts, and Rob took the lead and said yes. As they looked over the dessert menu, the pause that was on their conversation extended into plain silence, and a crazy thought entered Rob’s head, and he chuckled. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Rob explained, “just something that’s… stupid. One of those stupid, crazy thoughts.” A sly smile spread across Mike’s lips.

“What is it?”

“Nothing!” Rob insisted.

“Come on, tell me!” A big grin had expanded onto Mike’s face, and upon seeing it, Rob smiled as well.

“Okay, but fair warning, it  _ is _ a _ really _ stupid idea: What if… you and Otis moved in with me?” The look of shock on Mike’s face said more than his words would’ve. “I mean, I’ve got a spare bedroom— granted it’s only one— and the only time it really gets used is when my parents come over from Cali for Rash Hashanah. And when we get into the playoffs—  _ if _ we get into the playoffs.” After a beat of silence and the sense Mike was still dealing with a bomb being dropped on him, Rob tried to laugh his idea off. “See? It’s such a dumb idea, you d—”

“A dumber idea would be me accepting.” Mike said. Rob laughed.

“Yeah, it—” Rob quickly shut his mouth once he saw Mike’s straight face. “Are— are you saying that…?” After a moment, Mike answered.

“Yeah. I… I guess I did.” Another moment passed between them. “Did… we just become roommates?”

“I think so.”

“Ready to order?” The waiter interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the pictures Mike showed Rob at the diner: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/232287293264087157/ Also, from what I am aware of, Chester doesn’t have a mugshot, and he certainly never showed Mike a mugshot of himself that Mike took inspiration from for a painting. That bit was purely fiction. I also got the line “His depression finally got the best of him and he hung himself.” from the show “Scrubs,” S5E7.


	4. Two and a Half Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob leaves for some away games. During their time apart, Mike and Rob experience their own magic changes within themselves- not all of them being all that good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to update this weekly every Saturday, but since I'm gonna be away for the weekend, I'm going out of order just this once. With that being said, after today, the next update won't be until the Saturday after next (I hope that makes sense cuz that saying confuses me sometimes. Basically, this'll update not this weekend, but next weekend).

Rob was lying in bed at 6:30 am, not wanting to be awake this early on a non-practice day. After wondering if he’d be able to fall back asleep, his brain was now stuck on all of the change happening around his apartment. Almost all of the boxes were unpacked and—! He heard a crash from outside his bedroom door... in the kitchen? He got up to see what it was, and there was Otis quietly fretting over white ceramic shards which used to form a bowl, and a box of cereal nearby on the counter. When Otis noticed Rob’s arrival in the kitchen, he got visibly upset.

 

“I’m-I’m sorry, Mr. Bourdon! I-I-I—”

 

“It’s okay, Otis.” Rob said tiredly, with a small smile. “It was just a bowl. I can go out and get another one. And, you know you can call me Rob, right?”

 

“Y-yes, Mr. Bourdon.” Rob smiled at this.

 

“Here, let me get you another bowl.” Rob offered, getting himself a bowl too since he was awake. After quickly sweeping it up, Rob joined Otis at the breakfast bar. As they sat together with their bowls of cereal, Otis started off their time together by rattling off facts.

 

“Did you know that there’s a flamingo at the Bronx Zoo named Dinky? And a kangaroo named Dave?” Otis inquired.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, they’re funny names.” He chuckled. “I’ve only been to the Bronx Zoo once in October on a school trip, and we watched an episode of  The Zoo in class before we went and it was so awesome! I watch that show all the time now,” Otis continued as he put another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

 

“You know, you can go back. I can take you, I mean, and your dad. If you want.” Otis’ face lit up at this news.

 

“Do you think we can go this weekend?!”

 

“I don’t know about this weekend, ‘cause I’m gonna be leaving tomorrow for a few days. We have some away games to go to across the country, but maybe after I come home we can go?”

 

“Cool!” Otis exclaimed, pushing both fists into the air. He was softly reminded by Rob that his dad was still asleep when he put a finger to his lips and said,

 

“Shhh, not so loud.” Followed by the same finger pointing in the direction of the bedroom Otis shared with him.

 

“Right.” Otis whispered. “Cool!” He raised both his fists above his head again, this time a bit more lamely. As Rob placed another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, he knew this was the end of the conversation, for the moment at least. At the same time, he felt the self-applied pressure to continue it, that a conversation with a ten year old should have no silences, no matter how comfortable or awkward they could be. By the grace of God, Otis managed to unknowingly save Rob from whatever forced words would’ve come spilling out of his mouth next after he swallowed his food.

 

“Do you like my dad?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Rob said as pleasantly as he could. “Why wouldn’t I?” A brief moment of silence fell between them as Otis tried think why.

 

“I dunno. But it’s good that you do ‘cause he says he gets worried sometimes you won’t like him. I dunno why though,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, “but you wanna know what I think? I think, that he  _ like _ -likes you.” Rob raised his eyebrows at this, as if to say, Really? Otis quickly raised his hands up in a defeated way. “Hey, I’m just calling it as it is.”

 

* * *

 

With Rob gone for a few days and Otis with Anna for the week, the new home seemed so… different. Empty. So did Mike. As he passed by the painting of his Rob had bought, he stopped to look at it. It really fit the space that it filled in the hallway that seperated the main living area and the bedrooms and bathroom. Now, Mike’s chest stopped feeling so empty. His heart clenched at the memories flooding into his brain, and his lungs tightened. He felt his body painfully purging tears out of his eyes as he sank to the floor. He was sobbing now, eyes shut tight as he folded in on himself and cried. There was something desperate in him, a want— a  _ need _ . He needed to see Chester again, to hold him in his arms one last time. But he couldn’t and he knew that, but in this moment he was so incredibly desperate. He was starting to cry so hard he felt as though he was going to throw up. 

Mike crawled his way to the nearest bathroom, the one in the hall across from the bedroom that he and Otis shared, and plopped himself before the toilet, just in case. He grabbed the toilet paper and started wiping the tears out of his eyes and the saliva off his chin. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to steady his breathing yet. When he was done, began to blow the snot out of his nose. He had gotten himself to calm down enough to not need the toilet anymore, but the rawness off the crying bought was still very fresh as his chest was still heaving and his eyes were still watering.

He let whatever remaining tears he had cry themselves out. He didn’t know if he still had anything left inside of him; his body may have managed to purge all of his tears out. As he continued to calm himself, he started to wonder, what next? What does someone do after a random, raw, gut-wrenching cry? Mike picked himself up and managed to move himself from the bathroom to the couch without making any eye contact with the painted skeletal remains of his former lover in the hall, collapsing there and letting the couch hold his now tired body. He barely had the energy left to lift his arm up to turn on the TV and cable box, let alone flip through the guide to see what was on. His brain registered the shows that he enjoyed watching, but he wasn’t in the mood to watch any of them. No  _ My Lottery Dream Home _ , no  _ Criminal Minds _ , no  _ Impractical Jokers _ , no, no, no.

The title “NHL Hockey” caught his eye and he looked at the description:  _ NEW. New York Rangers at Los Angeles Kings _ . He clicked on it, glad he found something to occupy his thoughts. He began to look for Rob, scanning all of those on the ice for his number. The announcers found Rob before he could, as he managed to miraculously score a goal through all the men in front of him from the blue line. The siren sounded and the camera zoomed in on his celebration, raising both arms over his head as his teammates gathered around him for an embrace and an announcer cite a power play goal. Mike felt a smile stretch onto his face as he saw how happy his roommate was. He felt his heart flutter as he watched him celebrate and the game continue. 

As the game ended and the Post Game show began, Mike began thinking. He’s had a crush on Rob since around the time Otis got into hockey— or maybe he only developed a crush on his poster that was hanging in Otis’ room, the one that he got to look at as he put away his laundry. He wasn’t paying that much attention to the TV now— that is, until he noticed a familiar face. As they stuck a mic in Rob’s face and started shooting him questions, Mike’s heart fluttered at the sight before him; with sweat holding stray hairs against his forehead, his cheeks still tinged red from all the activity, and an element of confidence in his voice, Mike wasn’t paying so much attention to what the interviewer was saying, but to what Rob was saying.

“Well, I’m just glad I helped to get us racking up some points. We started off a little rough in the first period, but once the second period started we all got a second wind in our sail, you know?” As the interviewer thanked Rob and moved on to the next Ranger- a bald shirtless man who’s back was to the camera and was sporting a Phoenix on each shoulder blade, Mike couldn’t help but smile again, with a warmth growing in his chest and more fluttering collecting in his stomach. He then turned to look out the window, noticing how the sun was setting. From what he could see down Lexington Avenue, the sky was spread out with pink clouds, the farthest ones opposite the sun edged with purple.

 

* * *

 

The night of their game against the Kings, Rob was practically on top of the world. They’d won by four points, a landslide win he’d help to start. Games they had won always left him feeling great, how couldn’t they? He plopped his stuff onto his twin bed in his shared hotel room, Dave’s stuff already tossed onto the bed he had claimed. With the bathroom door closed and the sound of running water, Rob had to assume Dave was taking a post game shower, since he wouldn’t use a shower in the locker room if he knew he’d be at a hotel soon enough. Rob laid back on whatever empty space was available on his bed and sat in the silence of the room, staring out the window towards the night sky.

What Rob wasn’t expecting was that he’d be staring out the window most of the night, just like nearly every night since Mike moved in. Dave had fallen asleep soon after he got out of the shower, meanwhile Rob was having a hard time getting his brain to settle down. He’s noticed he’s gotten a little more anxious than normal and has since begun to push himself harder in both practice and during the games. He was slowly becoming more of an overachiever.  _ But why? The only thing that’s changed in my life was Mike… _

Rob’s brain swirled around the thought of Mike. The way his coffee brown eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his fingers grip a paintbrush… Rob’s eyes shot open as he began to feel the physical affect the thought of Mike was having on him. His crush was worse than he thought. All Rob could do now was made sure it didn’t get any further to him, he needed to keep his head in the game if they were going to get into the playoffs. But most of all, he didn’t need anybody else within or associated with the NHL to find out. Nobody needed to know that he was gay.


	5. Lonely Nights at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob & Mike have a little tiff, and there’s not just one, but TWO, missed dinners.

Sliding his key into the lock and giving it a twist, an exhausted Rob assumed Mike was out doing errands perhaps, meaning he could do what he was dreaming of: going right to his room and taking a nap. He wasn’t expecting to walk into Mike tucked up into a ball against the wall where  _ Smokin’ _ is hanging, a large canvas spread on the living room floor nearby with materials strewn about and ignored, and bits of paint smeared all over his face because of his hands. Mike looked up at him wide-eyed and sniveling, clearly scared by his unexpected arrival.

“What are you doing here?!” Mike suddenly shouted. Rob didn’t quite know how to respond.

“W-what? I—”

“Dude, why didn’t you knock?!”

“This is my house too,” Rob’s voice began to rise. As tired as he was, he could feel his blood begin to boil quickly and he got a second wind. “I didn’t think I needed to knock!” Mike pushed himself off of the ground, wiping his nose off on his arm, not caring about the tears still dripping from his eyes.

“What if I was in the middle of a brush stroke or something?” Mike’s voice sounded like he was pushing through what he was trying to say without crying or hiccuping.

“Can’t you like paint over it then?”

“It’s not that easy! I-I’m not fucking doing this right now, get the fuck out of here!”

“Fine!” Rob shouted, angrily picking up his luggage and stomping off to his room.

 

* * *

 

It had been nearly an hour since their argument. As Rob was unpacking, he went over everything over and over again in his head. He didn’t understand how it began or why it happened. He was still exhausted, and finally laid on his bed to nap. As he closed his eyes, the sound of paper rustling made him side-eye the door. He noticed movement at the bottom of his door as something slid into his room. He pushed himself off the bed and walked over, picking up a slip of paper that read:

_ Sorry about earlier. I’m not feeling so great lately. I wanna talk about it with you later. Maybe over a homemade dinner? My treat.  _ — _ Mike _

As he finished reading, his phone alerted him to a text, leaving him no time to even consider Mike’s offer. This caused him to let out a groan, assuming Joe and Phoenix had plans in mind that Rob did not feel like indulging. Rob placed the note on his side table and went to pick up his phone, and was alerted again to another text. It turned out to be a group text from his coach, in part saying that “all of those who are able to must come into practice this evening.” Thanks to their loss to the Carolina Hurricanes the night before, Coach felt it was necessary. Rob groaned again at the news as his phone began to go off with complaints from his teammates, making him mute the conversation.

He had gotten dressed and ready to go. Slipping out of his door and through the hall, Rob had it in his head that Mike had left to go get food after he slipped him the note. He didn’t hear the sarcastic “Okay, bye.” out of Mike’s mouth once he closed the door.

 

* * *

 

Any leftover anger Rob had in him from today’s events were gone by the time Rob returned home.  _ I guess that practice wasn’t completely useless _ , he thought. As he opened the door, he heard the kitchen sink running.

“Hey.” Rob greeted Mike.

“Hey,” Mike said, not turning around, disappointment heavy in his voice.

“You okay?” Rob asked upon entering the doorway to the kitchen. Mike let his question hang in the air for a moment.

“I thought we were having dinner tonight.” The disappointment turned more into sadness. Rob placed a hand on his forehead.

“Oh shit! I completely forgot! I am so sorry! I got the note and then of course right after Coach had us come in for an unscheduled practice. I’m  _ so _ , so sorry.” Now Mike looked at him. 

“Listen man, I get it, but the whole point of the dinner was…” Mike spent a moment to think about what he wanted to say. Restarting, Mike let out a sigh. “I should be the one who’s sorry. I mean, it still sucks that you missed the dinner, but I also feel bad for going nuts on you earlier. It’s just, lately I… I don’t know. Maybe it’s the move, maybe it’s me, I don’t really know, but when you were at your away games I started feeling kinda messed up and not like myself. Now that I think about it, I haven’t really felt like myself since Chester…” Feeling bad about the night’s events, Rob blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“How about I make it up to you? I’ll cook you dinner.” Mike smiled at this.

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Placing the candles in their holders, the last thing he needed to do was light them. He was going to save that for when Mike arrived, though. He had just taken his salmon off of his Foreman grill, and it was still steaming hot. He fetched Mike’s sushi from the fridge and took it out of the packaging and unceremoniously plopped it onto a plate, trying to at least make it look nice. Rob was expecting Mike to come through the door any minute now and didn’t want him knowing that he had gone out and purchased his dinner from a take out place nearby.

A half hour had passed by and no sign of Mike. Rob tried not to worry, even as his dinner grew cold. As an excuse to get up and entertain himself, he fetched some matches and lit the candles. Sitting back down, he waited another half hour before finally giving in and texting Mike.

**Hey, where are you? I’ve got dinner for us**

A few minutes later, he received a phone call.

“Oh man, I’m sorry!” Mike started the conversation before Rob could even say hello. “I didn’t know you’d be making  dinner tonight! It completely slipped my mind to tell you but I’m at a gallery. Brad wants to show off my work as much as he can.” Rob sat there for a moment, taking in what Mike just told him.

“Oh, okay.” Rob tried to hide his sadness.

“Some other time, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“Alright I gotta go, Brad’s calling me over. I think he’s got a buyer lined up for me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, see you later.” Mike hung up before Rob could even say goodbye. And there Rob sat alone, with sadness and a tinge of needless jealousy towards that guy Brad, a cold dinner in front of him, and candle wax slowly melting in front of his very eyes.


	6. The Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the zoo is in store for the guys! And some more fighting is in store for Rob. (Warning: This chapter has some homophobia in it.)

“C’mon Otis, we’re leaving! Rob has a taxi all ready to go!” Mike shouted in the front entry of the apartment.

“I’m coming!” Otis came barreling out of their shared bedroom with a hat barely on his head and sneakers in his hands. Stopping in front of his father and dropping his shoes in front of them, Otis stuffed his feet in. “Ready.”

“Okay, let’s go!”

Their taxi ride was full of information Otis learned from the show The Zoo. From how the giraffes are endangered to the fact that kiwis are nocturnal to how flamingos are social animals and everything in between. As they approached the zoo’s entrance, Rob looked down and saw the look of amazement on Otis’ face, reminding him of the night he first met him. Rob’s eyes flicked up and caught Mike’s, and he couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mike’s face, noticing how happy he was that his son was happy.

As they wandered through the paths between the World of Birds and Tiger Mountain, Rob noticed Mike’s hand knock into his a few times— not that Rob minded it of course, or the lack of space between them. Actually, part of him was hating the amount of space between them, no matter how little. But it was also hard to ignore all of the people around them. He saw people pulling out their phones to point and shoot, smiling and discussing with whoever they came along with that “Hey, yeah, that’s a Ranger over there!” For some reason, it hadn’t occurred in Rob’s brain that people would be recognizing him, let alone taking pictures of him. He’d think this would've been something he’d be used to by now, but it still felt somewhat foreign.

Once they left Tiger Mountain and made plans to head towards the bear exhibit, fans started coming up to him and asking for photos. He was praying he wasn’t making his embarrassment obvious, for the fans’ sake and his own. The only thing Rob could think of was how bad he was feeling bad for how the photos were infringing on Otis’ good time. Lucky for them, as they traveled through the rest of the zoo, the less amount of people seemed to recognize him— or at least felt the need to come up and ask for pictures. Ending their day in the Asia plaza, they all felt exhausted yet satisfied.

 

* * *

 

If there was one thing about hockey that stressed Rob out, it wasn’t the expectation to win every game for the fans, or bring home the Stanley Cup every year. It was one of his teammates— well two of them, but one more than the other. The team is LGBT friendly and supportive, but Rob knows there’s at least two members who aren’t _really_ — there was Cody Kimball, who was not only traded in from the Arizona Coyotes, but was understandingly born and raised in Arizona. It wasn’t hard to tell he was raised in a republican household. Then there was Niklas Plank. Niklas was from Norway, and he personally has said he’s “not a big fan of the gays.” He’s also claimed that he wouldn’t let that interfere with his relationship with his teammates who could be gay, and that he’d avoid them if anything.

 

Rob has had the most trouble with Cody. It all began earlier in the season when Rob was in the penalty box, and Cody got penalized too. As soon as he got in, Cody said a slur towards the referee who had penalized him: “That fucking cocksucking ref.” He must’ve noticed how Rob reacted by tensing up and making a face.

 

“Oh, lighten up, Bourdie,” Cody said, “this is hockey. People around here say that shit all the time. C’mon, you couldn’t’ve gone this far in hockey _not_ hearing that! Don’t tell me you’re a pussy, Bourdie.”

 

“I’m not.” Rob said innocently, drawing a baleful laugh from Cody. Rob did the right thing— or what he was told over and over by higher-ups was the right thing— and reported the guy, and management had him pay a fine of $5,000 and gave him a one game suspension. This got Cody ticked off at Rob, and lead to more problems between them.

 

It happened again tonight at practice. This time around, Cody was getting on Rob’s case about fan photos taken of him at the Bronx Zoo, and people couldn’t not notice the other man he was there with. The good news was barely anyone took aim let alone noticed Otis, the bad news was that led to people noticing Mike and questions flew about Rob’s and his relationship status.

 

“Ooh, little Robbie was out on a date.” Cody taunted. “Did you guys wanna see some penguins that are gay just like you?”

 

“Shut up, Kimball.” Rob shot at him, trying to keep a level head as Cody skated around him.

 

“Ouch, that hurt.” He replied mockingly.

 

“Cody, I’m just trying to practice. Why don’t you go try shooting or something?”

 

“Why should I when I can get fashion tips from you? Or is that your man’s thing?”

 

“Fuck off, Cody. I’m not gay.”

 

“Hey, which one are you in the relationship, the boy or the girl?” Rob stayed silent, trying hard to focus on his puck protection, but he’d admit that the words were getting to him. “No wait— are you the top or the bottom? You look like you’d love to take it up the ass.”

 

“I said fuck off. Stop being such a dick!”

 

“Wow,” Cody began to mock him again, “such harsh words from the limp wristed Ranger.”

 

That’s what set Rob off. He threw his stick and gloves onto the ice and grabbed Cody by his jersey’s collar. As he was throwing punches, Rob knew he wasn’t himself. He knew he shouldn’t be throwing punches at his own teammate, and that in order to work well as a team they had to get along. But Cody had set off a monster inside of him. As his fist made contact with him, he could see Cody’s smile, hear his laughter as he got what he wanted. That set Rob off even more. Before he knew it, their teammates were all over them, trying to seperate them. They were all yelling. Rob was pretty sure he heard their coach yelling too. Joe and Phoenix dragged Rob off to one end of the ice while Cody got dragged off to the opposite end. His friends and teammates did a good enough job of calming him down and re-focusing him, but he knew their coach wouldn’t let this incident slide. The rest of practice was uneventful, but towards the end, coach quietly dragged Rob back to his office.

 

“Well if Vesey wants to retire, I guess we can have you be our new goon.” He let out a dry laugh, and noticed Rob’s face hadn’t changed. He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued. “I saw you and Kimball get into that scuffle during practice. Tell me, Bourdie, what’s up? What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing.” Rob replied, looking away with pursed lips.

 

“What? Is he getting on your nerves, too?” Rob looked to coach now. “I’ll tell ya, he’s been on my nerves since he got here, and for whatever reason, he likes to spread the wealth. Just ask Zibanejad, or even Lundqvist. Hell, remember a few weeks ago when he was running around the locker room yelling something about Phoenix marrying a tranny?!” Coach bellowed.

 

“It’s trans. And she is.” Rob said deadpan, making coach squirm uncomfortably, not looking Rob in the eye.

 

“Oh.” Coach cleared his throat again. “Well then, uh—”

 

“Can I go now?”

 

“Not yet. I’m actually glad you’re here, and that you brought up that whole trans thing. I was gonna have you come in here today anyways, ‘cause I wanted to ask. Do you wanna be our team’s ambassador for You Can Play? I’ve been meaning to ask around ever since Zuccarello was traded and decided to start with you. All you gotta do is write an essay and fill out a form.” Rob made a face and took a moment to take it in and think it over.

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“Great, you just made my job that much easier! Now go home, calm down. I’ll send you the stuff later.”

 

 


	7. Don't You Hear The Bells?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn’t love a good last minute invite to one of your best friends’ weddings? Be warned, though: There's a big storm coming…

“Hey Robbie!” Dave shouted at his friend as he approached him from across the room.

 

“What’s up, Phi?” He greeted him by clasping his hand hard.

 

“Great playing today.”

 

“Oh,” Rob let out a small laugh and a big smile, “thanks.”

 

“As one of my best friends, I was wondering, how would you like to be my Best Man? Well, one of? Joe’s the other one.” Rob blinked in surprise at the offer.

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

 

“Great!” Dave replied rather quickly. He seemed to be in a bit of a rush to leave the locker room. “Oh, by the way, Linsey was playing around with the invite list, and it looks like if we’re gonna keep the venue we’re gonna need some more people, and we’d love for you to bring a plus one.”

 

“Oh, okay—”

 

“Well, I gotta get going, I have to make final decisions on tuxes for me and you guys.”

 

“Uh—”

 

“Oh! And save the date! It’s next Saturday at the Church of Saint Luke’s in the Field down on Hudson Street.”

 

“In the West Village?”

 

“Yeah, where else?” After a second of Rob opening and shutting his mouth like a dying fish on a pier, Dave said his final goodbye. “Alright, see ya, Rob! Text me if anything!” As much as he loved his friend and teammate, he hated how he did a lot of things last minute.  _ I bet that gets on Linsey’s nerves too. _ As Rob went through a mental list of people he could bring, there was only one name that really stood out to him.  _ Mike. _

 

* * *

 

“C’mon Mike,  _ please _ ?” Rob begged. “Besides, don’t I still owe you a dinner? We can go out to dinner afterwards!” Mike still stared at him with arms folded over one another, but now he cocked an eyebrow.

“What about the reception? Won’t they have food there?” He asked calmly.

“I asked Phi, it’ll only be appetizers and alcohol in the church’s garden.” Rob answered quickly.

“Do we have to stay the whole time?”

“No. I was actually hoping to duck out early.”

“Can we go to a place of my choosing?” 

“Yes, of course! Anything you want!” Mike took another moment, obviously mulling it over.

‘

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Rob exclaimed.

“Where is it?”

“Oh, um, it’s in a church in the West Village.”

“Hmm… okay.” Mike said, thinking out loud. “I’ll look up if there’s any good Japanese places there.”

 

* * *

 

Rob was in the middle of spreading peanut butter on a stick of celery when he heard the door to Mike’s room squeak open.

“Hey Rob? Can I have your help with something?” He said, quietly emerging into the kitchen. As they made eye contact, he could see some red in his roommate’s cheeks, and Rob assumed he was embarrassed about the way he was dressed. He had crossed out any possibility or hope of Mike having any kind of crush on him long ago.

“Yeah sure, what’s up?” Rob asked, looking up from his celery. He dragged his eyes from Mike’s black shoes to his navy blue pants to his matching navy blue jacket with shiny lapels and black undershirt. “Nice outfit. It’s better than mine.” He joked, making fun of the fact that he was about halfway dressed. His outfit at the moment only consisted of bare feet, white pants, and a white tank top. He still had white shoes, a red undershirt, matching red tie, and white suit jacket with a tiny red handkerchief to throw on before they left.

“Thank you, but what tie do you think would go best with it? Silver, red, or black?” Rob looked him up and down again, delaying his answer so he could quickly find a way to get over his nervousness.  _ God, he looks so good in a suit. _ “Uh, well…” He put his knife on the counter and walked over to him, his hands feeling clammy all of a sudden. “I think the red one should go first off, and, uh…” He took a moment to reevaluate his options as Mike dropped the red one to the floor to get it out of the way. 

_ Fuck, I still can’t believe Phi’s wedding is today… _

Rob picked up the remaining two in each hand and held them against Mike’s chest, interchanging them in the center of his chest.

_ And we’re going together...  _

“Um, as much as I like the silver one, I think the black one works best for this.”

_ I wish this was our wedding. _

“Alright. Thanks, man.” Mike said with a big grin, returning to his room. When he heard the door close, Rob let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He knew he had to shove his thoughts about Mike into a corner of his mind or else. He wanted to make sure there was no way anyone could find out about who he was, and especially who he was crushing on. And since this was an event his teammates would be at, he was especially nervous. Rob shoved the thoughts deeper down. How was he going to survive this wedding knowing he’ll be looking out towards his teammates, who were all sitting around this one incredibly handsome man?

* * *

 

“Oh, thank God.” Rob breathed out as they exited the garden. “I’m so glad to get out of there. So much small talk.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Mike said, not quite paying attention to what Rob had said. Rob noticed this, but tried to continue the conversation one more time. 

“So… What was that restaurant you wanted to go to?”

“Uh, Takashi NYC. At 456 Hudson street.”

“Sounds like a good place.”

“Mm.” And Rob took the hint, understanding that Mike wasn’t in the mood to talk. As they walked, Rob brought out his phone and searched the restaurant so that he’d know what direction to walk in. Rob was somewhat disappointed now, as he thought that with the party atmosphere Mike would be more talkative, and he was, but he noticed with every introduction as the party went on, he got a little quieter. Rob didn’t like it because he knew he was being quiet and practically depended on Mike to be the talkative one. 

They arrived at the restaurant and much to Rob’s surprise got a table within 10 minutes.  _ Probably because it’s only like 6:30 _ , he thought. As Rob ate through his white rice and stuffed mini kobe burger, he noticed they ate in more silence as Mike ate his Gyutoro-Temaki sushi.

After the bill was paid— Mike wanted to split it but Rob insisted on paying the whole thing, and Mike didn’t fight it like Rob almost expected him to— they found themselves outside of the restaurant in search of a taxi to hail. They finally found one, and Mike slid in first, immediately settling his elbow onto the armrest as he stared out the window with a thousand-yard-stare towards the surrounding skyscrapers. Rob slid in after him, asking the driver to take them to his apartment building at the corner of Lexington and East 22nd. They sat in silence as the taxi lurched forward into traffic. Rob decided he didn’t want to sit in anymore silence.

“How was your sushi?” Rob asked.

“Good.” Mike responded monotone, not taking his eyes off of the buildings outside.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Mike answered with a sharp tone, swiftly turning his head to face Rob.

“I don’t know, I just thought—”

“Well you thought wrong.” Mike’s anger was very apparent now as he went back to staring out of the window. They continued their journey home in more silence. Rob wasn’t aware of what he did wrong to make him so mad, but he definitely felt it was his fault, whatever it was. In the silence, he internally berated himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I know Rob and Phi don’t have a lot of interaction throughout the story, but in my defense, plenty of TV shows have done the same kind of thing- I'm taking artistic licence lol. Just... go with it, I guess lol


	8. Big Blow Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big storm hits.

Rob softly closed the door behind him as he and Mike entered the apartment. Mike had already thrown himself into the couch and turned on the TV by the time he had turned around.

“H-hey Mike?” Mike responded with a grunt. “What did you mean earlier? When you said I was wrong when I thought you weren’t okay?”

“I meant that I’m fine.” Mike changed the channel, staying on  Keeping Up With the Kardashians . “And I’m tired of you asking me how I am. Just leave me alone.”

“Alright, fine. You don’t need to be such a dick about it, though.” Rob told him. This pushed Mike over an edge.

“You think I’m being a dick?” He asked rhetorically, pushing himself off the couch and stormed towards Rob. “You’re the one who can’t get your damn nose out of my business!”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re— God, what the fuck’s your problem? Did something happen at the wedding? Did that girl you were talking to shove a stick up your ass when I wasn’t looking or something?”

“No! Hillary and I were making a real fucking connection while you were hovering around the fucking punch bowl by yourself!” Mike retorted.

“It’s not like I really  _ knew _ anyone there—”

“You said like half of your team was there! Fuck, the guy getting married’s one of your best friends on the team! Meanwhile, I didn’t know a single damn person there besides you!”

“Yeah, and—”

“You could’ve at least introduced me to people!”

“I did!”

“Yeah, but not as your fucking roommate!” With that Mike stormed off into his room, slamming his door behind him, forgetting about Kim and Khloe’s photoshoot playing out on TV. Rob stood there in awe, more confused than ever. He let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Looking around the room, his mind flicked over what he could do next as he tried to move on from whatever just happened. He settled on turning off the TV and walked to his room and examined what was there that he could do.  _ I guess I could clean up… _ Rob thought.

Twenty minutes had passed and Rob hadn’t bothered to close his bedroom door yet. He could hear the slamming sounds coming from behind Mike’s door, not wanting to know what was going on in there. Suddenly it swung open and Rob made the mistake of looking. There was Mike with a piece of luggage. No words were exchanged as they locked eyes for a moment, and Mike made his way down the hall. As the front door to the apartment opened and slammed, Rob felt guilt and sadness sink into his stomach like a stone in water. His first thought was that he was trying to scare him, or make him feel bad.  _ I bet he’ll be back later. _ But later came and went, and he wasn’t there. Rob ate dinner alone, reminding him of the nights before Mike, but now his stomach wasn’t only being filled with food, but guilt and worry on top of it. He wound up barely touching his food.

 

* * *

 

Rob looked at the brown shirt he was holding in his hands. The white DC ensignia stared back at him. Mike had left it, amongst a number of other things, behind. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like him. A knock at his front door brought him back down to reality, and he stowed it away amongst his other clothes in his luggage case and closed it, knowing he was already finished packing for another away game. There was another knock as he approached the door. He opened it to a woman nearly a full head shorter than him and dressed in a black skirt, matching blazer, and black and white floral blouse, while sporting a shoulder length attempt at bleached hair that seemed more orange than blonde. Her hand was still in a fist from knocking, but she quickly stuck out her hand for Rob to shake.

“Hi, I’m Anna.” She introduced herself happily. Rob took her hand with a confused look on his face.

“I’m… Rob.”

“I’m Mike’s, uh… Otis’ mom? I’m just here to pick up some of their stuff.” She admitted, waving two empty trash bags in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Come on in.”

“Thanks. I heard all about the fight. Well, at least from Mike’s side. Actually, a lot of what I heard about you is from Mike, and Otis too.” 

“Mike has told me about you too.” After an awkward beat, Rob asked, “So Mike is staying with you?”

“Yeah. He actually came at a weird time. My boyfriend and I were all ready to go out and have our weekly date, we were just saying goodbye to Otis and his babysitter when I opened the door and he nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh.” Rob responded plainly. This made him forget why Anna was there for a moment until she cleared her throat.

“So, uh, is it alright with you if I grab some of Mike’s stuff?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Here, I’ll—” Rob began to lead her to the room where the two stayed.

“Thanks.” Rob watched in silence as Anna picked though Mike’s bureau from the doorway, he thought about how much he didn’t want this; he didn’t want Mike and Otis to be gone, he didn’t want Mike’s ex to be here, how much all of this felt like a divorce. Now Rob understood how Mike and Anna must’ve felt when they were going through this themselves. Rob must’ve been zoned out for too long, as he came back into reality just in time to catch an uncomfortable glance from Anna.

“Sorry, I’ll—” He motioned out of the doorway.

“No it’s fine, I’m pretty much done anyways. I’m glad I got to come because Otis forgot his book for reading class.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” They stood in silence for an awkward moment before Anna made a move towards him, attempting to get past him so she could leave. He moved out of the way for her, and followed her to the front door.

“Y’know,” she started as she turned and faced him, “I don’t think Mike means to be this mad at you. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me he was upset because he had it in his mind that you guys were heading towards another step in your relationship and he ended up feeling let down. He said something about not wanting to be introduced as ‘just a roommate.’” Rob gave her an inquisitive look and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Rob, um…” She looked around for a moment as if she was searching for the right words to show up. “Okay, I don’t know how you’re gonna take this ‘cause I don’t really know you, obviously, but please don’t take it badly. Mike likes you.”

“I know.”

“No, like, he  _ likes _ you.” Rob knew what she meant the first time, but something inside him didn’t want to hear it. He lowered his head and focused on fidgeting with his shirt’s hem. “Rob?”

“I know.” He said quietly.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” Rob was wanting to get his words out, but didn’t know how to say them. “I’m… I can’t say.”

“You can’t say? Or you don’t want to say?” He took a moment to answer.

“The second one.”

“Listen, I don’t know exactly what this is about, but just in case, I’m going to throw this out there: there’s nothing wrong with not being straight.”

“In the locker room there is. On the ice, there is.” Rob said earnestly, surprising himself a bit.

“So you’re saying you’re…?”

“Gay?” He asked. “...Yes. And no. I’m not exactly ‘out,’ and I’m just… I feel like I’m… I’m barely comfortable with myself like that, you know?”

“Well, I’m no expert with all of this, and I don’t mean to be rude at all, but you may need to get help.” Rob bit his bottom lip, feeling the sharp sting of tears. He knew he must’ve looked it to, as Anna continued. “I mean you ought to go speak to a therapist.”

“Well I can’t get one right  _ now _ ,” He felt his voice almost give way as he pushed away the need to cry, “I’m leaving tonight for a game.”

“Well you don’t need to get one right this instant, but there’s a lot of resources out there in case you need help before you can get a therapist. You can speak to therapists online or on your phone with stuff like 7 Cups and TalkSpace, or you can go to websites like therapistaid.com, psyschologytools.com. But I definitely recommend seeing an actual therapist in real life.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Oh, I’m a social worker at a law firm. We’re located nearby— further down Lexington actually, near Grand Central. Here,” Anna began digging through her purse and pulled out a business card. “Take my card. You can call me if you want some recommendations for local therapists.”

“Oh...kay…” Rob took the card and quickly read it over.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Rob! Good luck at your next game. Go Rangers!” Her upbeat personality shown back through as she said her goodbyes.

“Oh, uh, bye.” Anna closed the door behind her. “Thanks.” Rob said quietly in the empty room.

 

* * *

 

Joe and Rob finally arrived at their Toronto hotel room. It was the middle of the night, and Joe was tired enough to fall asleep nearly right away. Rob was caught up in reviewing what Anna had suggested to him.  _ What was it, 7… cups? _ He pressed the search button on his phone, and the app store brought him his results. He scrolled through.  _ There’s the 7 Cups one… TalkSpace… Jour… Pacifica… _ He pressed on the 7 Cups app and read through the details before downloading it. He then turned his phone off and rummaged through his bag for some PJs, so he wouldn’t wake up in his clothes like Joe will in the morning.

As he pulled them out, a shirt fell out and onto the floor. It was brown, and Rob noticed an edge of white. _ Mike’s shirt. _ He brought it up to his nose and took a whiff. It still smelled like him. Leaving it on his bed, he quickly got changed in the bathroom. Once he laid in bed, he soon fell asleep with the shirt gently clutched in his hands.


	9. With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A POV switch up: we’re looking through Mike’s eyes for a moment. And Anna continues her reign in this story as Voice Of Reason.

Hearing a notification come in, Mike gently placed both his pencil and sketchbook down beside him on the couch and picked up his phone. He opened it, sliding open Snapchat, wanting to see Brad’s snap in hopes it would be something funny to help cheer him up. It did the opposite. It was a picture of Rob heading towards a Dunkin’ Donuts in a forest green zip-up hoodie, jeans, and a familiar brown shirt with a white DC logo. It was something Brad had screenshotted off of TMZ’s website, and he had written on a translucent banner below, ‘Hey, don’t you have that same shirt?’ Brad was right, he did. Screenshotting the image before time ran out, Mike thought about what he was seeing. Did he actually leave his favorite shirt at Rob’s house? He swore he brought it with him. Before he had time to think anymore about it, Anna swung open the door to the apartment, startling him. 

“Hey, I got your stuff.” She said with a smile as she plopped two bags next to him on the couch.

“Hey, thank you so much. I owe you.”

“Oh, after last night, you  _ definitely _ owe me. Rob seems nice though.”

“Actually Brad just sent me a picture of him, I think he was wearing one of my shirts.” Mike brought up the snap again to show to Anna.

“Wow, I guess you two really are in love with each other.” She responding, handing him his phone back.

“What? No. I’m not in love with him—”

“But you definitely like him, right?”

“Well yeah, but… he’d never like me back. I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

“Mm, you never know what might happen.” Anna said in a sing-song voice, trying her best not to out Rob. “Plus, it sounds like you’re making excuses.”

“No I’m not! He’s—”

“Mike, have you even dated anyone since Ches?”

“No.”

“Did you ever take the time to deal with his death?”

“Yeah, I mean, I cried with Otis once or twice, but I— I don’t know. I had to put taking care of Otis first. I’m probably over it by now.”

“Do you know if you went through any of the five stages?”

“I just said I’m over it, didn’t I?”

“But that’s not going through the five stages. It sounds like you had to put off your grieving. Honey,” she gently placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder as she sat on the edge of the couch next to him, “you might have to go see someone. Like a therapist.”

“Oh no, I’m not crazy. I don’t even have the money to pay someone to watch me cry and complain for an hour.”

“I’m gonna tell you what I told Rob earlier, okay? Try looking around online. I know the 7 Cups app is free. I mean, it’s not the best option, but it’ll do for right now.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll look.”

“Who knows, it could help your guys’ relationship.” After a moment, she started again. “Speaking of, I’ll let you stay here until you two make up.”

“Now I owe you even more.” He said, placing his head in his hands.

“It’s no problem; it’s your week anyways and I’ve got a crazy busy week at work. You can make it all up to me by talking to a therapist. An  _ actual _ therapist, though. When you can.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey what are you up to?” Mike asked his son later that evening.

“Oh, my reading class teacher wants us to write a story that’s at least a page and a half long.” 

“Well it looks like you’re almost done— you’ve already filled the entire page.” 

“Actually, this is the back. I already filled up the front, but I’m not done yet.” 

“Wow, I’m sure your teacher will be impressed.” 

“Yeah.”

“Can I read it?” 

“No! Not until she grades it.” 

“Alright, okay, I get it.” Mike says, backing away with hands up. “Man, you artists are all the same,” Mike adds on with a laugh, “so picky about who sees your work and when.” He knows very well he can be just the same way. 

“Yeah, I wonder where I get  _ that _ from.” Otis says quietly. Mike smiles at his snarking, knowing it’s definitely something he got from Anna, and he’s already pretty good at it.


	10. Tell Me It's Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob and Mike get one step closer to getting back together.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this again. Last time sucked.” Rob told his friend as they plopped into the orange seats of the older subway car.

“Come on, Rob! You’re my good luck charm! Last time I got what’s probably the best painting in my collection!” 

“Joe, we got separated from each other like 20 minutes in— I didn’t see or hear from you until like, midnight.” 

“Well, you had some good luck last time too, didn’t you? You met your roommate that you really, really like—”

“Shut up.” Rob said, blushing and giving his friend a playful punch in the arm. 

“Haha, see? I knew it! You  _ do _ like him!” Rob shushed him, telling him they’ll discuss it more after the gallery. The two men continued their journey, and much to Rob’s surprise, he managed to stick by his friend’s side for nearly the whole time. The only time they separated was when Rob had spotted someone familiar standing next to a large, nearly realistic painting of children playing on a grassy hillside. All Rob noticed was black, almost wiry hair, and a navy blue suit, and he was off. As he wandered away from Joe and approached the painting, he caught a better glimpse of the man. His heart sank as he realized it wasn’t Mike. 

He realized, now that he was this close to him, even if it was Mike he wouldn’t have known what to say to him. He didn’t know whether he would’ve apologized first or if he would’ve been too proud to, since he still thinks he didn’t actually do anything wrong. He probably would’ve said hi and pretended nothing bad had happened between them. All he knew was that he felt bad, and that he wanted Mike back. Rob looked back to where he had left Joe, and was thankful to see him still standing there, only now he was speaking to a man with a familiar afro. He ambled over and awkwardly slipped next to Joe’s side.

“Oh, hey, Brad! This is my one of my best friends and teammates, Mr. Rob Bourdon.” Rob could tell Joe was definitely buzzed by the way he introduced him. “Bourdie, this is Brad, the guy from last time who got me my best painting!”

“Hi,” Brad stuck out his hand and flashed a wide grin, “Brad Delson.”

“Hi.” Once Rob heard the full name, he was pretty sure he remembered Mike speaking about him once or twice before. “Hey, do you know a guy named Mike?” He saw Brad’s eyes squint as they darted to the side as he tried to remember. “Mike Shinoda?”

“Oh, Mike? Yeah! Him and I go back like car seats!” Joe giggled at his saying. 

“Well, could you talk to him for me? Him and I had a huge fight. I guess, uh… Tell him I’m sorry?” Brad eyed him. 

“Yeah, sure, but I don’t know how quickly he’ll forgive you.” 

“Yeah, I get it. It’s worth a shot though. Tell him to take his time.” 

 

* * *

 

“Hey dad?” Otis yelled over to his father making dinner in the kitchen from the couch as soon as Steven Universe went to commercial.

“Yeah, O?”

“When are we gonna see Rob again?” Mike cringed internally at the man’s name. “His place was finally starting to feel like home. Like, when-I’m-not-here home.”

“Well, uh… it’s not so easy, I—”

“Yeah it is! We just gotta go bring our stuff over there!”

“I’ll… I’ll see what we can do, okay?” He told his son as he remembered Brad’s text he had received late the night before.

“Okay!” As Mike tried to get back to cooking, he didn’t get the chance to notice his son’s sly grin.


	11. Tell Me I'm Forgiven Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob lets people know who he is.

It was a strangely silent dinner, Rob noticed, as he took another bite of his salad. Otis dipped a chicken nugget into some sweet and sour sauce, and Mike took another bite of his burger. He felt tense and uncomfortable the whole time. As they finished eating, Otis broke the silence.

“Dad, can I go play The Sims?”

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your reading log?”

“Did it. Read for 30 minutes.”

“Lemme see.” Otis ran off down the hall and turned into his and his father’s room. He returned a moment later with a piece of paper in hand. Mike looked it over.

“Alright, good, I’ll sign it later.”

“Wahoo! Time to set a house on fire!”

“Don’t kill too many Sims, O.” Mike warned, with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“I won’t!”

Rob began picking up discarded paper bags and near-empty sauce containers, as Mike began to help.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry, about the whole… thing.” Mike admitted out loud, wincing slightly at the last word.

“I— me too. Sorry. I should’ve—”

“No, it’s— it’s fine. I was… I’m not as fine as I thought, and—”

“—Yeah, me neither—”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah.” Things ended awkwardly between the two as they finished cleaning. Not speaking for the rest of the night, Rob didn’t feel so bad about it. As Rob watched TV and Mike added finishing touches to his most recent painting, Rob stole a few secret glances as the night went on. He could’ve sworn he saw Mike’s eyes move from him back down to his painting a few times.

 

* * *

 

The following evening, Rob stepped into the subway car and sat in the empty seat between a younger man in a nice suit listening to something on his phone, and a middle aged woman playing with her young children in her lap. Rob placed his bag gently on the floor in front of him, keeping it secure between his feet. He was trying to come down from the adrenaline of his final practice before their Saturday game the following day. His phone then alerted him to a text.

It was Mike, asking if he could watch Otis for the night. He explained that he had managed to get a date for the first time since Chester died, and it was with the woman he met at the wedding. He came off like he was genuinely excited for it.  _ Why shouldn’t he be? _ Rob thought, remembering the woman with her beautifully done blonde hair and sparkly silver dress.  _ He deserves it. He probably hates me too much by now to ever consider me anyways… _ Rob replied to his text confirming that he would, and quickly placed his phone in his pocket, careful not to touch the sharply dressed man next to him by accident. He spent the remainder of his ride wallowing in a jealous sadness.  _ If they start dating, I’m gonna be in for a long ride... _

 

* * *

 

“Thank you.” Rob said to the delivery man, closing the door behind him. “Alright, O, pizza’s here!”

“Yes!” Otis yelled, running into the galley kitchen. “Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza!” He chanted.

“Here’s a slice for  _ you _ ,” Rob said, placing a slice on a plate. He pulled a plastic covered  aluminum dish out of a paper bag next and continued, “and  _ my _ spaghetti. What’s on TV tonight?”

“Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I’ve never seen this version before. It looks old.” Otis commented as he watched various chocolates and sweets being made on screen on his way over to the couch.

“This one was made in the 1970s, I think.”

“Wow! That was so long ago!”

“Yeah…” Rob confirmed as he filled his mouth with spaghetti, and tried not to show how Otis’ comment struck him. He was glad though, that Otis, and Willy Wonka, were helping to distract him from thinking about how Mike was on a date with a beautiful woman right now, even if Otis wasn’t aware of it. Rob had a tough time trying to get his mind off of things in the beginning as various chocolates being made were displayed on the screen, but by the time Charlie found his Golden Ticket, he was into the movie. That is, until another commercial came on.

Otis had gotten up a few times during commercials to get himself a new slice, and always returned quickly. They’d chit-chat between showings, but were for the most part silent. Both were full from their meals by the time Augustus was sucked into the pipe. Once the next set of commercials came on, Otis started up a conversation.

“Rob, I don’t  _ want _ my dad dating someone else.” Rob was caught off guard, because he didn’t exactly know how to explain to Otis that his dad wants to feel like a regular adult for a second, and not that he doesn’t love or care about him, but he wants to go do his own thing for a moment.

“I know, but—”

“I want him dating  _ you! _ ” Otis whined. Rob’s eyes widened.

“What now?”

“You heard me!”

“But, Otis—” Rob wanted to laugh it off, he really did, but he also wanted to hear the kid out.

“C’mon Rob! I’ve seen the way my dad used look at your poster. Heck, even now when you’re not looking still looks at you like Mason Rayport looks at Alexa Kao!”

“Who?”

“They’re these people in my grade— they’re so obviously in love with each other it’s disgusting. Blaugh.” Otis stuck out his tongue at the thought.

 

* * *

 

Rob woke up about an hour later than usual, and came out to find Mike nursing a coffee.

“Hey, good morning.” Rob said, his voice still a little gruff. Mike let out a grunt in response. Rob didn’t go too much farther into it, grabbing for some bread to toast. He let the silence sit between him as he made the rest of his breakfast, frying some eggs with a few strips of bacon.

“What’s going on for you today?” Mike asked, looking a little more awake now as Rob sat down across from him with his finished product.

“I got a game this afternoon, and practice before that. Same thing tomorrow too.” Mike took a moment to soak in what Rob just said as Rob delved into his breakfast, before reminding him,

“You owe me an ice skating lesson, by the way.”

“What?” 

“The day you asked me and Otis to move in you said you’d teach me to skate.” Rob took a moment to think.

“How ‘bout Monday, can we do it?” He asked, shoving some food into his mouth mid-sentence. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ve got a gallery to go to tomorrow anyways, after I drop off O at his mom’s house, so it works. I’m showing off this new painting I did. It—” Mike was interrupted by his son entering the room, rubbing one of his eyes.

“I’m smelling bacon.” Otis announced. Rob smiled and offered him one of his strips as he sat in the chair.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, now march.” Rob instructed, lifting his skates to show Mike how to march on the ice. Mike did as he was told, but began slipping on his 4th or 5th march. He grabbed onto Rob’s shirt as tight as he could before he could fall to the ground. Rob laughed as he held him up. “Alright, alright, get your footing.” He let go of him as he did so, Mike keeping a steady hand on Rob’s shoulder just in case.

“God, this is going exactly like the other night,” Mike commented with a smile.

“Oh, so it was that good, huh?” Rob made sure to lay his sarcasm on thick. Mike chuckled.

“Yeah. She ducked out early. She made some excuse about getting a text about her friend being in the hospital. I don’t know how true it was, but it didn’t exactly leave me feeling all that great about myself. I stuck around the restaurant's bar for a while before I came home.” Rob didn’t  _ want _ to pity him, especially after the way he tortured himself the night of the date, but he couldn’t help but to pout at the news. He didn’t want to think, nor hear, about somebody thinking that somebody as sweet and attractive as Mike wasn’t worthy enough of even finishing a date.

“I don’t know, I think you’re a catch.” Rob said, barely registering the blush beginning to color his cheeks. “I mean, you’re sweet, you’re creative, you’re a fantastic father… and from what I’ve seen, you dress up really nice, too.” As he finished speaking, Rob felt like his cheeks and ears were on fire.

“Thanks. But—” Just then, Mike began to slip and fall, letting go of Rob as he leaned backwards and waved his arms around as if he was in a cartoon, eventually falling on his butt. 

“Are you okay?” Rob asked, unable to hold back a few chuckles.

“Ugh, yeah.” Mike said with a blush appearing to his cheeks. Rob offered a hand and Mike gladly accepted. As he rose, he began to slip again, grabbing onto Rob’s shoulders hard for stability. Rob grabbed onto his midsection in an attempt to help provide additional support. Before Rob knew it, they were looking into each other’s eyes now, and the chestnut color of Mike’s eyes had Rob in a trance. Rob couldn’t help but feel the heaviness of the situation. Overcome with fear, he let go of Mike’s waist and backed away. Before he could speak, Mike asked,

“Why’d you back away?” Frozen with fear, Rob looked at him now, momentarily unable to articulate what he was feeling. Mike glided closer to him. “Rob?”

“I… I’m scared.”

“Of what? Me?”

“Yes— no— I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” There was silence between for a long moment.

“I’m gay.” Rob admitted quietly and straight-faced, clearly still scared. There was another moment between them before Mike managed to move forward and hug him.

“Oh, Rob…”

 

* * *

 

There was no blowback from Mike. No anger or disappointment. No sirens went off, alerting the rest of the world of what was just said. No one called the team, no one alerted the higher-ups within the NHL, he didn’t get fired and forced to walk out of the locker room with his head hung in shame as the headlines read “Disgraced Rangers Defenseman Forced Off Team, To Lead A Shameful, Disgusting Life Alone.” To Rob’s relief, it went the complete opposite way. 

After his admission, Rob definitely noticed a change between him and Mike. Mike had come out again as bisexual to him, and Rob had to sit there and pretend like that fact ever left his mind. That he’s got any sort of chance with him. But even within the rest of the week, Rob noticed that they were trusting each other a bit more, they were joking with each other a bit more— even to the point of Rob being unable to decipher if they were flirting or not. Mike even took him out to an LGBT bar one night— one of the first ones Mike said he had gone to once he figured himself out. He tried his best to teach Rob how to flirt with men, but Rob just wasn’t in the right setting for a lesson. Needless to say, when Mike pushed him to try and ask a random guy out, he got shut down. Hard. It’s not like he even wanted to ask the guy out anyway, but it was still embarrassing to get rejected not only in a club full of people but right in front of his crush on top of that. That night, before he went to bed, he contacted his therapist and they had set up a phone appointment for the next morning.

As proud as his therapist, Janice, was of his coming out to ‘a trusted source,’ she was excited for him to continue. On his own terms, of course, she carefully explained. He told her about how good he had felt after telling Mike, although things could’ve gone better afterwards. After giving him a pep talk, Rob said he was ready to take the next step and tell others. Janice gave him some tips and tools, and promised to send him some additional tools in a few minutes once they were finished speaking. As he hung up, he grabbed his travel bag and texted Mike, reminding him he wasn’t going to be home tonight. He’d be on a plane to Los Angeles to verse the Kings.

 

* * *

 

“That last-second assist you had with the Phoenix — that game-winning goal — it really drives in that this was a great game for you. Do you feel this was your best game of the season?” One anonymous reporter asked of Rob, sitting against his cubby in an old Rangers shirt, dressed down in comparison to how he was dressed not so long ago.

“I don’t know if it was  _ my _ best, it was probably the team’s best, though. We’ve still got the rest of the season to go, but, uh… yeah, we were focusing more on the passing set-ups that we’ve been working on lately, and-and, uh we put our best foot forward as a team. It feels good. It always feels good to win, of course, but this time, just uh, felt different.” It looked like another reporter was about to continue the discussion and change the topics, before Rob felt the need to continue. He almost didn’t know where he was about to go with this, but his brain kicked into gear in the last second. “Ah-a-actually, uh, to add, if this was really one of my best games, then I may as well come out and make it a little better. Hey guys,” Rob says louder, trying to get the attention of his teammates still in the locker room with him, “uh, well… I wanna, uh... you know what? Fuck it. I’ll just say it. I’m gay.”


	12. A Scramble For Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob has another meeting with coach, and Mike comes and surprises him.

The following morning, Rob had been startled awake by his phone ringing on the nightstand next to him. He felt heavy with tiredness after a long flight home from across the country the night before. Before he realized what was happening, it had stopped and a missed call notification popped up on the screen. It was a call from the coach. Rob felt his heart beat harder in his chest as he saw a voicemail notification pop up a moment later.  _ That’s it. I’m fired. That’s why it’s so short, it’s probably all he needed to say.  _ His hand began to shake as he slid the notification and unlocked his phone, shakily placing it against his ear to hear those two words he expected, quite possibly screamed at him.

 

“Hey, Bourdie— uh, it’s coach. I wanna see you later today in my office, at 4:30. Thanks.”  _ That’s it? God, he probably wants to fire me in person. _ The next thing he did was open the 7 Cups app, nearly begging for Janice’s help. Within a few texts, he had a phone appointment set up for later that morning.

 

* * *

 

Rob approached the closed door with sweaty palms.  _ Just remember what Janice said. _ He wiped his hands off on his pants and took a breath in, counting out four seconds, holding it in for six, and releasing it for four more seconds. After a few more concentrated breaths, he knocked on the door.

“Come in!” He heard coach’s voice boom from behind the door. Rob slowly pushed it open. “Bourdie! Hey!”

“Uh, you wanted to see me?” Rob said quietly, feeling much smaller than his big frame showed.

“Yeah! Um, here, have a seat, and could you shut the door please?” Rob did as he was told, as the coach removed his wire-framed glasses from his face. After Rob sat in one of the office chairs across from him, they sat in silence for a moment, coach having a pleasant smile on his face. Rob felt like he was going to throw up. “Well, your announcement caused quite a stir.” 

“I’m sorry—” Rob said, now sounding as if he was about to cry.

“What are you sorry about?” He asked with a laugh. “What you did was brave, making yourself the first openly gay man actively playing in the NHL.” After a brief pause, coach continued. “With that being said, I wanted to congratulate you, not just for coming out, but for being the Rangers’ latest  You Can Play Ambassador.” Rob was baffled, to say the least.

“So, wait— I’m not fired?”

“Fired? Why would you be fired? Did Cory say something to you?”

“No, I-I thought that— that... you guys wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“Why not?” Rob looked at him with disbelief, as if he didn’t already know.

“Because I’m gay!”

“Why would we fire one of our rising stars ‘cause of something like that?” Coach let the rhetorical question hang in the air before continuing. “Besides, we’d get in trouble if we fired you just for being gay— and don’t even get me started on the blowback from the public. Now are you happy about the position or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad you are! It’s great news, Bourdie!”

“Thank you.” 

“We’ll be announcing the good news to the public later today.”

“Alright.” After a beat, Rob had to ask, “Is that it?”

“Yep, you’re free to go!” As Rob stood to leave, coach stopped him. Rob turned back to look at him. “Wait, Bour— Rob— uh, just so you know, things won’t change between us— I mean they can’t, well I mean, they  _ shouldn’t _ . Y’understand?” Rob nodded his head yes. “Good. Glad to have you on the team.”

As Rob left, he heard the nearby elevator ding, then it’s doors slid open. He quickly looked in the elevator’s direction before making his way to the stairs to the locker room. He stopped in his tracks as he did a double-take, not believing who he just saw.

“Mike?” The man looked in the direction he had heard his name called.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” Rob said warily, “what are you doing here? How’d you—? What?”

“I was just, y’know, in the neighborhood and wanted to see if I could, I don’t know, pick you up from practice or whatever. I was hoping we could go to this one bar I was thinking about.”

“Wow, uh... thanks, yeah. I actually just got out of a meeting with my coach, so I gotta go grab my stuff from the locker room.”

“Okay. Is it alright if I come along?”

“Yeah, where else would you go?” Mike laughed at this.

“I don’t know.” Rob lead them to the elevator, not wanting to inflict the travel down the stairs onto Mike. He pressed the button for the floor two floors below them, and they were on their way. Well, they were, until the elevator abruptly jerked to a halt and the lights above them flickered off. A set of flood lights powered on, and Mike and Rob looked at each other. 

“What the hell?” Rob asked no one in particular, and pressed the emergency call button. They stood in silence as they waited. After a minute he pressed it again, seeing if anyone would answer this time. They got nothing.

“Oh my God.” Mike said, and started laughing in disbelief. 

“Here, I’ll call someone.” Rob assured, reaching for his phone. As he touched his pocket, he realized it was empty and it made his heart jump into his throat for a moment. “Oh fuck,” he said, facepalming.

“What?”

“My phone’s with my bag…” 

“I’ll do it. I guess we call 911?” 

“I guess, yeah.” After the call, Mike revealed that there had been a power outage, and someone from the fire department should be coming soon. “Welp, I guess we have some time on our hands.” Rob said, sitting on the floor.

“I have an idea to pass the time.” Mike said with a wicked grin spreading on his face. He quickly laughed it off. “It’s stupid though.”

“What?” Rob asked with a smile.

“Truth or dare.”

“I’m up for it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I like your attitude, Rob. Alright, I’ll start. Truth or dare?” Rob took a moment to mull it over.

“Truth.”

“Okay, umm… when was the last time you wet your bed?” Rob looked around, trying to remember.

“I don’t know, probably like five or six? Wait— are we counting times we got drunk? ‘Cause one of the first times I got drunk with Joe, he said that I wet the bed, but I’m pretty sure he poured water on my crotch as a prank.”

“Oh my God!” Mike bellowed, letting out a deep belly laugh. “That’s a classic move. Okay, do me.”

“Okay, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Hmm… I dare you… to… lick the floor.”

“Oh God!” Mike shouted, “Never mind! Truth!”

“Fine, fine. Who here has the nicest butt?”

“Oh me, of course.” Rob laughed at Mike’s mock egotism. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Smell my armpit.” Mike lifted his arm, and Rob did as he was told. Mike began giggling, “Ew! I can’t believe you got that close to it! Okay, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Tell me something you don’t want me to know.” Rob took a minute to think as butterflies flew into his stomach.

“Does it  _ have _ to be the truth?” Rob asked as there was only one thing on his mind now.

“Yes!”

“Are you  _ sure _ ?”

“Yes! Come on, Rob, tell me!”

“Can I switch to dare?”

“Damn, come on!”

“ _ Please _ ,” Rob begged.

“Fine then. I dare you to kiss me.” Rob got it out of the way, kissing Mike on the cheek. “No, on the lips.” Rob’s heart leapt into his throat, as he stayed in Mike’s personal space. He felt the air around them change as his eyes flicked down and watched Mike lick his lips. Before he knew it, the space between them was closing as he shut his eyes. The kiss didn’t last as long as Rob wanted it to.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you—” Mike started. Rob replied in a hoarse whisper,

“Kiss me,” he licked his lips, “ _ please _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so idk if you really can get an appointment through the 7 Cups app that quick, but tbh the only excuse I have is that this is a work of fiction.


	13. A Goal is Scored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob gets a little party in honor of his new spot on the team, and Otis reveals his master plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! The last chapter to my longest fic so far! Very convenient that this, the 13th chapter, is being posted on July 13th. Thanks for sticking around! Hope you enjoyed it!

Rob’s eyes fluttered open, and he was happy to be in his own bed. After yesterday’s events, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Sure, being trapped in an elevator sucked, but he certainly liked how things went. The sound of a notification coming from his phone brought him out of his memory. He was surprised to see a number of notifications on his phone— most of them congratulations from teammates— and a series of them being texts from Cody. After reading through all five long texts, he got what Cody was trying to tell him. It was all an apology— at least, it was as much of an apology that Cody could attempt. He replied, telling him he was forgiven.

 

* * *

 

Brad and his wife were mingling with Dave and his wife, while Joe and his wife were mingling with Anna and her boyfriend. They were all enjoying the hors d'oeuvres. According to Mike, their little celebration was going well. Mike began clinking on the champagne glass in his hand.

“Hey everyone, I’m sure you all know why you’re here, but just so I can help drive the point home, we’re here for Rob and his new gig on the team!” Their friends began clapping, and there was a whoop from Joe. Rob looked towards the floor as he blushed. “Rob, you wanna say anything?”

“Uh, well,” Rob began awkwardly, “I just wanna thank everyone for coming to this. I’m glad to have gotten my position, but I couldn't have done it without friends and good people being there with me along the way. Thanks again, everyone.” Rob raised his glass, and took a sip. Everyone else followed suit.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Rob?” Mike asked nervously after placing one of the last paper plates in the garbage.

“Yeah?” He continued scrubbing the large platter.

“Can we, uh, talk about… about yesterday?”

“Y-yeah, what’s up?” He asked, turning off the water and placing the plate back in the sink.

“I— I wanna do it again.”

“You—? Me... me too.” Slowly Mike stepped over to him, and Rob cupped his face as he started intently into his eyes. They leaned into each other tentatively as their lips came together. Parting after a moment, they both looked deep into each other’s eyes, desperately looking for something. Rob must have found it in Mike — or vice versa, neither of them were quite sure — when their lips came crashing back together, Rob leaning his back against the sink for support. He felt Mike’s hands slide lower down his sides and felt them finally rest on his hips, his thumbs hooking themselves inside of the waistband of his pants. Rob moved his arms to a more comfortable position, placing them around the back of Mike’s neck. They broke the kiss as they heard something crash to the floor, both turning to where the sound came from. A pajama-clad Otis stood in the kitchen doorway, both jaw and Nintendo 3DS on the ground. Mike immediately went into dad mode, retracting his arms from around Rob’s sides as Rob’s face and ears began burning up at record speeds.

“Now Otis, I can explain—” Mike began, panic clear in his voice. Otis put on a mischievous smile.

“You two were kissing, weren’t you?”

“ _ Otis _ , I—”

“—So my plan worked!” Mike blinked in surprise.

“What plan?” Otis quickly ran off to their room as Mike yelled after him, “What plan, O?!” He quickly came back out, a paper in hand.

“This one!” He shoved a paper graded by his teacher into his father’s face, as he excitedly told the two about his plan. “I knew getting you two back together would work out! I’m totally going to the arcade now!”

“O, buddy,” Mike said, looking up from his paper, “at least like...  _ half _ of this stuff didn’t happen.”

“Huh. I guess I was wrong. Oh well; can we still go to the arcade?” Mike chuckled.

“Yeah. You could’ve just asked instead of coming up with some master plan, you know.” 

“I know, but I also did miss being here.” There was a beat of silence. “So are you two like, together now?” Mike and Rob looked at each other.

“Uh,” They both said in unison.

“I don’t—” Rob began.

“I mean— it’s something we need to talk about, and—”

“—’Cause you two certainly look like you’re together. Hey, does that mean our room is gonna become my room?” Otis asked of his father.

“Alright O, how about you go to bed?”

“But dad I’m not tired!” Otis whined, picking his Nintendo 3DS off of the ground, quickly looking it over for any damage.

“Oh, yes you are.” Mike added, gently pushing his son down the hall.

“But dad!”

“Uh-oh! Did I hear something?”

“What? What did you hear?”

“Was that… the tickle monster?” Otis started running towards the room, giggling.

“No!”

 

* * *

 

Otis pushed open the door to the NYC Modern Pinball arcade & museum, immediately forgetting about Mike and Rob behind him. Mike caught the door, letting Rob go in first. Rob watched Otis make a beeline for Pac-Man, then felt Mike place a hand in his. They looked around before Mike spotted a Street Fighter arcade game. Mike looked at him with a wolfish grin.

“Hey, I’ll verse you!”

“You’re on!” Mike dragged him to it, not letting go of his hand.

 

**_The End_ **


End file.
